


Working Off Cherry Pie

by JourneySmilesMiles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Baker Dean, Blow Jobs, Chubby Dean, Come Marking, Gym, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Misunderstandings, Personal Trainer Castiel, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, baker - Freeform, fitness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JourneySmilesMiles/pseuds/JourneySmilesMiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself with a prepackaged 'gift' from Sam for a 8 Free Session with a Personal Trainer at the Pearl Gate Gym. Encased with insecurities about his changed physique Dean dreads the visit until he meets his Trainer, Castiel Novak. </p>
<p>While Castiel is patient and encouraging the presence of the beautiful athletic man not only makes him more aware of his own flaws, but begins to eat away at his minimal sleeping hours. However, it is only through Castiel's positive words that Dean can begin to learn that his largest critic is himself and Castiel could careless about Dean's soft middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Took a little break from Blue Skies, still working away at it. But seriously I couldn't get this out of my head. Thought of it at the gym and yup hope you guys like it! <3

   

* * *

 

 

Dean looked around the charcoal grey building lined with large windows and motivational posters. His eyes focused on a poster of a young woman in a sports bra and tight purple pants, her foot raised high above her head and eyes laser focused on its target. Across the top of the poster white words read, ‘ **KNOCK OUT THE COMPETITION** ’. Next to her was another poster with a large muscular man, his veins protruding from his shoulders while his skin shined slick with grease illuminating sculpted abdominals. The words ‘ **NOTHING BUT YOU STANDS IN YOUR WAY** ’ smashed across his chest.

Dean bit his bottom lip and glanced down at his own torso. He looks through the material of the too large black t-shirt displaying his Bakery, _Sweet Surprise_ , to what he knows lies underneath. The logo sat in a Kansas Licence plate a Cherry sitting on top. At the time he thought it was creative and the business itself is something he has always been very proud of, but sitting on the uncomfortable stool looking at the posters in front of him and knowing what lies beneath his t-shirt, he wishes he’d chosen a different one. He tugs at the fabric to drag it away from his stomach and shifts his legs slightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees in the hopes of drawing attention away from the reason he’s sitting in a franchised gym. He knew that if it wasn’t for Sam’s “gift”, he’d never have come here.

He shifts his attention over to the counter noticing the arrival of three people dressed in powder blue short-sleeved jerseys, TRAINER dances across their shoulder blades while _Pearl Gate Gym_ is embroidered over their hearts. Dean examines each Trainer wondering who would be working with him. There was a lethal petite red head, her ponytail up tight but her stance made him believe that she might be gentle, and thus he hoped it was her. Dean looks at his feet and scoffs as he thinks he wouldn’t mind looking at her and having her assist him throughout the workout, but shakes his head to look at the two men crowded around her. One has longer blonde hair and he is at about the same height as the woman. The man is smacking the taller man on the shoulder and smiling up at him as he rolls a sucker around his mouth. _‘Having a fellow sweet tooth might be a good idea,’_ Dean ponders.

Dean watches the two smiling up at the taller man. He can’t see what he looks like other than the tuff of dark brown hair, well-defined arms and back that reach down to a tapered waist. Dean drags his eyes over his ass, the back of his black short covered thighs and down to his sneakered feet. He can clearly see from a distance the way the uniform breathes over lean muscles, toned with strength and wrapped in agility. Dean’s eyes focus up to the man’s face as he begins to turn around waving goodbye to his fellow employees. His slight smile warms the room, while a bashful flutter of the man’s long dark eyelashes tilt downwards in response to an unheard remark from the shorter man.

Air catches in Dean’s throat hoping that he is not going to be his trainer. Praying to every God and Goddess he can muster asking for the woman or the other man to please be the man he’d been waiting for, but it soon became blatantly obvious that the beautiful man walking towards the waiting area is C. Novak, his prepaid personal trainer for the next month.

He shrinks further into his hunched over stance staring at his clasped hands avoiding eye contact with those moving around him, especially ignoring the man approaching him. Dean’s heart stops beating as his blood begins to heat under his skin when a light touch brushes his shoulder, drawing his attention up to a striking set of cerulean blue eyes framed with long dark lashes. The eyes crinkle slightly as the man smiles at him.

“Are you Dean Winchester?” he asks.

“Y-yes,” Dean clears his throat of the stutter, “Yes. Novak?”

“Castiel, please. Welcome to Pearl Gates Gym. Before we get started I wanted to take a quick questionnaire about your general health and future goals with us here so I can better assist you with the time we have together,” Castiel shifts to sit down in front of Dean reaching over to the clipboard on the table. He clicks the pen and clears his throat before focusing his blue gaze upon Dean’s crouched form.

“Full Name, Age, Height and Weight.”

“Dean Winchester, 36, 6’1” and umm,” Dean blushes and ducks his head away from Castiel’s eyes, shifting his arms on his knees so to hide his stomach further, mumbling his response, “210-something.”

Castiel caresses his eyes over Dean’s defensive body, gently smiling to himself as he shifts his attention back to the form in front of him. He writes in the information and places a little star beside his name indicating to himself that his future client exhibits insecurities regarding his body. The mark allows him to focus as much of his attention on the general mental health and attitude of his client as well as the physical.

“Okay. What do you do? And how many hours do you generally sleep?”

Dean looks at the table between them, not daring to lock his eyes once again with the scorching blue, “I’m a Baker, own _Sweet Surprise_ on Main Street. And I sleep maybe 4 hours, baker hours, but it’s always been enough.”

Castiel frowned, “Ideally we’d like to get you sleeping for 6-8 hours, what time do you open?”

“Umm I start prep the night before so, we close at 9, prep takes about 2 hours meaning I’m back at the house by about 11:30. Dinner, if I’m awake enough, but I usually just end up snacking while I’m baking. We open at 7:30 so I have to be up, showered and at the shop by 5am.”

“Okay so you’re up at about 3 or 4? That gives you approximately 2-3 hours. Dean, you have to know that’s dismal?” Castiel lightly chastises.

“Yeah, but I have a business to run. Anyway, my brother Sammy said that running might help with the stress so what can we do?” Dean claps his hands and gathers his courage to determinedly look at Castiel.

“For stress? Well first I’m going to maybe suggest you find a way to get more sleep, but in terms of our work outs together I’ll suggest some mild to difficult stretching exercises.”

“What like yoga?” Dean scoffs.

“Exactly like yoga,” Castiel deadpans.

“Uh okay, but I’m going to warn ya I’m not very flexible.”

“That’s okay, that’s what I’m here for to make sure you have some tools ahead of you and make sure you don’t hurt yourself during the process. Now, how is your mental health beside the stress?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s an important part of physical fitness, certain exercise will assist you while others may generate more turmoil. The brain is an organ that needs to be used like a muscle and therefore treated as such. Push too little and nothing happens. Push too hard and you could hurt yourself. So we’ll find what makes it and you happy and healthy,” Castiel smiles as he looks back down at the sheet.

“Umm just the stress then. Hey Cas, do I have to wear those shorts?” Dean nods to all the other men in the gym wearing gym shorts.

Castiel follows his eyes and looks back at Dean’s grey sweat pants, “No those are perfectly fine. We have no strict dress rules. Wear whatever is comfortable and movable, no jeans or sandals. Other than that whatever goes,” Castiel noticed how relieved Dean was upon receiving such information.

Dean sighed from his stool thanking whomever that one of his prayers today had been answered. Dean looked back over at Castiel watching the man write a few notes on the clipboard before asking another series of questions. He answered them all to the best of his ability, although he was a little hesitant to state his goal as anything other than to get rid of the gut that had appeared over the last few years. Being a 24/7 Baker didn’t really lend well to one’s physique.

Castiel got up asking Dean to follow him up stairs to a quieter setting meant for personal trainers. He gestured to a set of Treadmills that looked out onto the main floor. Dean climbed up one while Castiel hopped onto its neighbour.

“Alright, Dean, let’s start with a light 2 minute jog as a warm-up then we’ll do some stretches and head on over to the weight segment of this session. Sound good?”

Dean looked down with wide eyes at the Treadmill’s screen gulping at the time. He was going to make a fool of himself in front of this gorgeous man, “Okay.”

“Good, now hit the green button and set the speed to something that brings you up to a jog,” Castiel begins his own machines watching Dean as he hesitantly begin as well.

Dean sets the number at a low pace thinking he’d rather not overexert himself right away, but Castiel reaches over and taps the speed up two times. The speed is still slow, but it immediately prompts him to huff for air. _‘Great,’_ he thinks, _‘now he knows how out of shape I actually am.’_

“Good Dean. Let’s keep this up for another 2 minutes,” said Castiel.

“2 more?! No, no, you said 2 minutes and it’s 2:01, 2:02. We’re done,” Dean reaches for the pause button when Castiel reaches over and places a hand on Dean’s own.

“Two more okay? Then we’ll move on to the stretches,” Castiel’s lips tilt slightly as Dean’s skin begins to burn and flush from contact.

Dean nods and refocuses ahead of himself trying desperately to calm his nerves while ignoring the beautifully fit and way out of his league trainer beside him.

As they finish their warm-up Castiel leads them towards a small room with wall to wall matted flooring. The wall directly in front of Dean is completely walled over with a large panel of mirrors. He moves his eyes over the reflected room always maintaining his awareness of Castiel within the room. Castiel returns with two ropes and gracefully sits down cross-legged, his shorts tightening around his thighs. Castiel gazes up at Dean, his dark eyelashes fluttering at Dean staring dumbfoundedly at him as he smiles lightly patting the floor beside him. Dean crumbles gracelessly to the floor like a puppet suddenly void of strings.

“Alright Dean let’s begin with a simple stretch test,” Castiel instructed demonstrating to maintain good posture and to reach for his toes. Castiel’s hands reach well past his own feet causing him to wrap his forearms around his socked feet; their shoes discarded at the door. Dean is thankful he wore the socks without holes.

Dean squirms once again readjusting his t-shirt to cover his belly and sits in a similar position, barely reaching past his own knees. A blush of shame stretches across his neck and skirts up over his ears as he stares at his position, ashamed to even glance at the gorgeous and no doubt all around flexible man beside him.

“Very good Dean, we’ll work on that together, but don’t worry about it. Some people are more flexible than others and some simply need to approach a reachable goal at a slow pace.”

Dean looks over to see the man sitting with his feet flat against each other, toe to heel, as he holds his ankles, his knees touching the floor with his strong thighs spread and resting against the mat. Castiel huffs in laughter noticing Dean’s eyes upon his form as he misinterprets Dean’s distress for general beginners frustration rather than that in combination with his spiked attraction to the trainer.

“I’m not a good example to compare with I’ve got massive double joints. Can completely fold my legs over and around my head. If I’d better balance I could have entered the contortionist union,” Castiel smiles at Dean his teeth gleaming at him for the first time in his attempt to wave away the mounting shadow of insecurity that had been following Dean since he entered the Gym.

But Dean’s brain had immediately short-circuited when Castiel painted the image of his lethal form folding in half. It took all of Dean’s willpower and general bashfulness to escape picturing the man naked, bent over and in his bed. Dean glanced at the ropes placed on the floor as the material made a brief entrance into his inappropriate daydream of the man in front of him. Blushing he laughs off the awkwardness.

Dean braces himself and takes on a cold exterior in hopes of escaping the mounting sexual fantasises surrounding the trainer as the session continued. He almost releases a deep moan when Castiel pressed lightly on his lower back during a yoga position that caused his ass to stand straight up in the air, ‘ _Doggy Style or something like that.’_

After stretching Castiel moved them to the weights, which brightened Dean’s closed exterior mildly upon discovering that moving around baking material like giant bags of flour and sugar had granted him good upper and lower muscular strength. The work out ends with a walk back on the treadmills and another stretching session.

“So Dean, after today I know what I’d like you to work on. First, flexibility and second endurance. You’re strength is very good in the arms and legs, but a little weak in the lower back and abdominal area,” Castiel clinically points out as he writes a note in his report from the matted floor once again. Dean looks away for the thousands time in embarrassment, shifting to suck in his gut and make himself smaller. Castiel looks up from his notes squinting at the fidgeting man, “Dean may I be frank with you?”

“Sure Cas, shoot,” the name momentarily startling the man on the floor before he inhales deeply in preparation.

“I’d also like to work a little bit on your own umm body image, if you’ll permit,” Castiel holds his breath as Dean stares blankly at him.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean frowns as his insecurities spark into mounting defensive anger.

“I noticed at the beginning and throughout the session that you are very self conscious of your torso area,” Castiel gestures to him as Dean opens his mouth to respond with anger before Castiel cuts him off, “which you have absolutely no need to be. I believe that it’s just as important for us to work on our strength, endurance and flexibility of the mind as it is for the body. So, I will keep a non-judgmental space here, for you, and encourage positivity, but only if you are comfortable. I will warn you the workout regime will push your boundaries, but it has to in order to improve, the other stuff is up to you how comfortable you’ll allow yourself to be.”

Dean continues to blankly stare, as Castiel looks down bashfully. Not knowing what else to say other than knowing that the session were already paid for and he’d rearranged the shop hours with Kevin in order to be there, “Okay.”

Castiel looks up sharply and beams at him, “Okay. So see you in a few days?”

“Yeah Cas, see you in a few,” Dean rises to leave as Castiel shouts out behind him.

“You know you can change here and lockers are free, right?”

“Uh- right- yeah- okay,” Dean stutters as his reaches out a number of times behind him in search for the door handle, once again making a fool of himself in front of the beautiful man.

‘ _Great Dean now you’re stuck with the Greek God and you can’t even open a fucking door properly. Awesome.’_

Dean gets into his car and slams the door, stoking the steering wheel’s leather before huffing a sigh and backing out the parking lot. These work outs were going to bring about so much more than a few sore muscles.

Later that night Dean found himself panting in bed on the cusp of a fantasy fuelled dream, his cock hard and leaking in his boxer. The remaining image of Castiel pushing more than his hands into his lower back in that matted room scorching themselves to his eyelids. Dean groans down at his lap and rises to take a cold shower, preferring to put an end to his fantasies rather than encouraging them within the warmth of his own hand and the cascade of warm water. The ice doesn’t chase the imagery away, nor does it chase it away for the next number of session over the following two weeks.

__ 

Walking through the doors of _Pearl Gate Gym_ for their fifth session Dean yawns heavily and rubs his eyes. Dark shadows had begun to show themselves more prominently under his green eyes, mocking his dry spell and libido. Almost every night for the past two weeks he’d experienced more graphic and realistic sex dreams at 36 than when he was in his prime as a teenager. It was ridiculous, but there was something about this devastatingly unattainable man that taunted his mind the moment the sun went down.

Dean walked into the changing room dragging his feet along the dark tiles and plopping his duffle bag down on the wooden bench. Sighing deeply he moves to take off his shirt, still dusted in icing sugar and what he could only predict was some sort of pie filling from the daily baking rounds. He’d been working on a wedding cake and a conference request for 80 croissants and doughnuts for the end of the week.

‘ _80! Do they even understand how long it takes to get the perfect batter to butter ratio for a fluffy croissant? It ain’t some grocery store recipe!’_

Dean yanked his worn jeans down his legs pausing to stare down at his dick. And there it was basking in the harsh white light of the changing room, unclothed. Dean wasn’t ashamed of what he was packing by any means, but the real horror of the day was that for the first time he’d forgotten to wear underwear. Usually he remembered to don a pair of boxer-briefs on his gym days to prevent movement and unnecessary chafing, but the two tasks on top of his nightly visits from his sexy Trainer meant he’d completely blanked on this factor. Dean tilted forward placing his forehead upon the cold metal of the open locker door and groaned. Looking down at himself once again Dean contemplated leaving, but knew he couldn’t do that to the man waiting for him upstairs. Sighing deeply he grabbed his soft grey sweatpants yanking them up and wiggling slightly to position himself as best he could. He seized his black t-shirt with the baking logo slamming the locker door behind him as he jerked his arms through the shirt and down over his soft torso.

Over the past four sessions Castiel had begun to assign minor self-esteem improvement tasks for him, most had seemed utterly ridiculous, but hearing words of encouragement upon the man’s lips gently pushing him further seemed to be working. He no longer felt self conscious of his endurance abilities and had been able to increase the speed in a short period of time, much to Castiel’s enjoyment. His flexibility was still the shits, but it was a work in progress. He still felt uncomfortable when it came to the abdominal and lower back portion of the work out, not cause he couldn’t do it, cause he could, but the crunching and tucking movement of the general exercises best showcased his stomach and it was not easy to escape Castiel’s view. Furthermore, Castiel had increasingly encouraged his progress with soft touches, usually completing each session by something more similar to a caress on his back than a pat. The touch confused him, but Dean knew in his heart that Castiel would never be interested in him. He’d nothing to offer him, nor anything in common.

Dean passed the matted room where he could see his trainer waiting for him to complete the 4 minute running warm-up. With a quick glance through the door windows Dean could see Castiel demonstrating complex yoga manoeuvres, this particular one had him balancing on one foot while he grasped the ankle of the other one over his head making his spine curve inwards to create a standing circle. Glancing away quickly Dean went to complete his warm-up.

He quickly found himself once again slightly flushed in front of the door. Castiel was now balancing on both hands while holding his entire body up off the ground, his feet forward. Dean cleared his throat as he entered the room promoting Castiel to unfold him self and stand up to greet Dean with a bright smile.

“Hello Dean. How are you?”

“Hey Cas, not too bad. Work’s been killer, but gotta pay the bills right,” Dean sauntered over, preparing himself to sit down.

“Ah wait, we’re going to focus on flexibility today and composure. I’ll lead you through some basic yoga stances and hopefully by the end today you’ll be peacefully ready to get a good nights sleep,” Castiel tapped under his own eyes as he nodded at Dean’s own bruises.

“Oh uh well Baker hours- and –ya – not-” Dean stammered.

“You’re clearly stressed out about work so I’m hoping today we can get you calm and learning some breathing exercises that might make sleep come faster,” Castiel walked to the door puling down the blinds and locking them before striding to the back and pulling his own shirt off.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes ran down the man’s toned bareback and found themselves locked on jutting hipbones as he turned around and began walking back to Dean. Dean blushed fiercely as he sharply turned his head away to look at his feet, _‘He’s beautiful.’_ Dean cleared his throat refusing to look at Castiel’s bare chest, now standing beside him speaking words he did not hear.

Castiel reaches forward and places a light hand upon Dean’s shoulder, resting it there to gain the blushing man’s attention, “Dean, you okay?”

Dean flicked his eyes up to Castiel’s cerulean blue eyes before once again staring at their feet, “What? Yeah, good.”

“Okay, well I asked you if you’d been doing your positive word association exercises while running and when you’re in the shower?”

Dean silently mourns the loss of Castiel’s hand as he removes it from his shoulder, “Umm yeah yeah. Something like that.”

“Good. Well today I wanted to take it a bit further. I locked the door and closed the blinds, so it’s just you and me.”

Dean turned his attention to the door quickly, “Right.”

“What I’d like you to do today is remove your shirt. The best way to feel comfortable in your own skin is to see it and appreciate how it moves for you.”

“You want me to take my shirt off?” Dean blanched at the request. ‘ _Dude’s take their shirt off all the time. It wasn’t a big deal, but this was six-pack all lean blue-eyed fucking sexy flexible galore machine standing here, not just some random on the beach or in the changing room.’_

“I- I can’t Cas, I mean I’m not ready to do that yet. Maybe when the abs come in, but yeah no.”

Castiel crossed his arms, “Dean, a six-pack is not the aim here and quiet frankly it’s highly over rated. Now I’m not going to force you, but I will not condone smack talk towards your progress.”

Dean blinked as he looked at the serious and upset stance of his trainer, nodding to himself before inhaling deeply, “Okay.”

Dean slid his hands down to the hem of his shirt and grasped the edge, hesitating and looking up at the firm stance of Castiel beside him, ‘ _Here goes nothing.’_ Dean pulled the shirt up over his mid-drift, pectorals and head, sliding the material down his arms and holding it safely in front of his stomach in a last ditched effort to hide his belly from Castiel.

Dean could feel his cheeks flaming with heat, knowing full well that his freckles would be glowing under the red heat of embarrassment. Castiel walked slowly and calmly in front of him placing his hands on Dean’s own while lightly pulling the shirt away, “Dean look at me.”

Dean locked eyes with Castiel shuttering as his breathe slowly escaped his mouth and he relinquished his hold upon his last remaining piece of fabric hiding the clear image of inadequacy from Castiel’s eyes. But to his surprise the man smiled softly at him, throwing the shirt away, but never removing his eyes from Dean’s, “Good.”

Dean gasped quietly as Castiel stepped to the side once again out of Dean’s personal space and stood with his feet on the ground, gesturing for Dean to match him. The two shifted so that they were facing each other rather than the mirrored wall. Dean followed Castiel’s movement, readjusting where he was told and allowing the man to move him when needed. In their final move Castiel shifted back to the standing position, planting his feet flat against the ground as he waited for Dean to follow. When Dean completed his task he watched as Castiel walked towards him.

“Turn and face the mirror,” he instructed softly.

Dean turned towards the mirror as Castiel lightly brought up his hands, pressing his fingertips just enough upon Dean’s hips to push him forward a step closer to the mirror. The mirror was now an arms length away from him, filling his vision with the sight of Castiel standing behind him on full display.

“Now Dean,” Castiel leaned forward ghosting his breathe over Dean’s ear, “Tell me who you are? Tell me what words describe you.”

Castiel leaned out, but maintained contact with Dean’s hips, only allowing the tops of his hands to touch skin. But the minor touch caused Dean’s breathing to become shallow and his eyes to glaze. Castiel had him in a trance as he opened his mouth to say the first rehearsed words, “Responsible. Determined. St-strong.”

“Good Dean, what else?” Castiel’s eyes stayed locked upon Dean’s form.

“Great baker. Successful Businessman. F-family man.”

Castiel smirked at him from over his shoulder as he stepped closer causing Dean to feel the radiated heat and catch a wisp of what could only be described as fresh rain on a summer’s evening, “What else Dean?”

“That’s all. That’s all I am Cas.” Dean slowly came back to himself and blushed madly realizing that while he slowly desired to step outside of the intense focus of blue eye, he couldn’t escape the sight. He knew that if he asked Cas would step back, respecting his boundaries, but Dean wanted so desperately to prolong the electricity sizzling between their skin igniting the space between his back and Cas’ chest.

Castiel gazed into Dean’s eyes scrunching his brows slightly, “Oh Dean, you are so much more. Smart, caring, ambitious, protective, compassionate, passionate.”

Dean scoffed at him, “Passionate really Cas?”

“Yes. The way you talk about baking and business I’d say you’re a passionate man Dean. But you’re also something that encompasses everything that you are in and out.” Castiel leans his head lightly upon Dean’s shoulder hiding his face.

“What’s that Cas?” Dean breathed into the air surrounding them.

“Beautiful,” Castiel looks up at Dean and very slowly moves his hands from around his hips over his stomach.

Dean reached down, “Cas, I- I’m not objecting to this- it’s just that- don’t,” Dean looked down at Castiel’s hands spread over his stomach and slowly wrapped his fingers around the man’s wrists pulling them away, “Don’t patronize me. I’m not what you’re looking for. _Please_.”

Castiel firmly held his hand in place allowing the tip his lower hand’s pinkie to slide beneath the band of his sweatpants, “Do you not want me Dean? Did I read your blushes, looks and slip of the tongue incorrectly?”

Dean gasps as he feels the minor movement of Castiel’s finger brushing over his happy trail, tickling his skin slightly as the courser hair moves along his skin, “No.”

Castiel’s hand freezes, “You don’t want this? Oh I- I’m sorry Dean I-”

Dean presses his fingers firmly into Castiel’s wrist, encouraging him, “Don’t stop.”

Castiel hid his face once again on Dean’s bare shoulder. Dean could feel the man’s smiling face nuzzling into the crook of his neck hesitantly placing a light kiss upon his skin, lips dry and warm. The second kiss pressed firmer into his skin skirting down to his shoulder and back up to behind his neck and over to the back of his ear, before Castiel softly spoke, his hand going further below the waistband of his pants, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you were lacking a piece of clothing under your pants today.”

Castiel nipped at Dean’s ear as the hand still resting on his stomach pressed slightly forcing his hips back into Castiel’s front. Castiel’s other hand lightly wrapped it’s finger around his hardening cock, the touch forcing all focus upon the man’s fingers as they slowly slide upwards, squeezing harder at the tip before sliding his index finger around the tip and over the slit slowly returning his hand downwards, maintaining the most pressure at the top loser at the bottom.

“Cas- I- oh god”, Dean gulped for air as the slow movement continued.

“You Dean Winchester are Beautiful,” Castiel rocked forward sliding his own hardness between Dean’s cheeks, matching the pace of his hand with his forward thrusts. “You’re Smart, Successful, uhh,” Castiel bit Dean’s shoulder increasing the pace of his hand on his cock.

Dean’s breathing was rapid as he tried to maintain his composure and losing as he leaned forward to catch his balance, his hands spread out in front of him on the mirror. Dean locked his eyes upon the movement below his pants watching as the tip of cock peeked out over the top with each downward stroke, “Oh God – ah Cas- I- ah- _Cas_.”

Castiel groaned as he shifted to kick Dean’s legs further apart bringing his resting hand up to skirt across Dean’s nipple causing the man to release a hitched gasp. Castiel moved his hand downwards over his flank caressing his skin as he pressed his fingers to the side of his hip and wrapped his fingers around the fabric of Dean’s pants dragging the material down below his moving hand and Dean’s cock.

Dean watched the movement in the mirror seeing the exposure of his darkly tinted skin encased in Castiel’s elegantly tanned hands, pre-cum flowing over allowing smoother movement. He groaned as Castiel moaned behind him once again locking his eyes with Dean’s as they met in the mirror, “You’re –ah – you’re Kind, Strong- uhh- Passionate. Oh _god_ Dean.”

“Do it Cas, oh god please, yes, Fuck I’m close ah ah ah _Ah_ _Cas_ ,” Dean’s eyes scrunched closed as Castiel’s hand picked up pace rubbing his thumb over the tip and firmly grasping his cock within his hand twisting in a downwards stroke causing Dean’s jaw to drop as he fell over the edge chasing the white hot light that had been building at the base of his spine.

Dean huffed as he swallowed whatever molecule of air would enter his lungs, opening his eyes slowly to see his come painting across the reflected form Castiel’s hand still lightly milking him to completion before he stepped back completely.

Dean gasped, “No Cas, you –ugh – you didn’t -”

“It’s okay Dean,” Castiel looks up at the lights above trying to compose himself.

Dean shakes his head, “Paint me Cas. Do it”

Castiel looks at Dean trying to comprehend the request and consent before looking into Dean’s eyes and seeing the man’s steel determination pushing him forward. Castiel moves closer to Dean placing a hand on his hip as Dean pushes his pants down further, exposing his ass fully to Castiel. Castiel’s hand works aggressively over himself, the movement seen from the mirror over Dean’s shoulder.

“Come on Cas. Need it,” Dean rests his head on his forearm as he moves the other hand behind him to spread his cheek open allowing Castiel to see his hole clenching in response to his movements.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Castiel groans behind him as Dean feels hot strips of liquid hit his lower back. Dean scrunches his eyes closed as he a large drop of Castiel’s come begins to slide down the top of his crack and towards his hole. Castiel groans as he watches it move down slowly before Dean feels the man’s fingers collect the come on his back and pushing it down to his hole rubbing it over the puckered skin.

“Oh fucking hell, yes,” Dean feels his cock twitch in an effort to respond causing the man to laugh at it’s valiant, but fruitless effort, he wasn’t a teenager anymore.

Castiel moves his come over the hole slightly pushing it in with the pad of his index finger and thumb. Once he’s pleased Castiel brings Dean’s pants up to cover him once again and leans forward to kiss his shoulder before moving him back from the mirror a little, grabbing Dean’s shirt and handing it over to him.

Dean watches as Castiel wonders to the back of the room quietly receiving the cleaning spray bottle and paper towel to clearn the mess from the mirror, returning the material at hand and putting his own shirt back on.

Dean scrunched his brow, _‘What was that? Was that all about the self-esteem bullshit? What was he to Cas? Was this a joke? Had to be a joke, fuck he was a fool. How could he ever believe Cas would actually li-‘_

“You’re thinking too much Dean,” Castiel stood in front of him, his bare feet standing toe to toe with Dean’s own as their eyes danced over each other’s face. The man had a soft smile on his lips before he leaned forward placing his lips on Dean’s own for the first time. Dean gasps into the gentle kiss opening his mouth as Castiel slides his hand up his arm and around his neck pulling him further in, licking softly into Dean’s mouth and stepping back before it could get too heated. Dean chases after his mouth, his eyes still closed.

“What are you doing tomorrow night Dean?” Castiel asks.

Dean slowly opens his eyes, “The bakery, why?”

“Oh well,” Castiel looks down, a slow flush crawling up his neck. The man’s eyelashes dance upon his cheeks as his eyebrows furrow, his mouth turning down slightly, “I- well I was- I- ”

“Would you like to get a cup of coffee and dessert with me Cas?” Dean smiles widely at the man blushing before him. Castiel looks at Dean, his eyes wide as Dean continues, “I make a mean Cherry Pie.”

Castiel beams up at him his teeth and gums radiating up towards him, “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi the Bakery name is totally a nod at the song "Cherry Pie" ^_-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist Enjoy!   
> Again this is my relief from my main story Blue Skies. Give it a look :)

Dean sighed into the display case’s cold glass stationed just to the side of cash register. Kevin puttered around behind him cleaning the espresso machine after the morning rush. Monday Mornings. Dean loathed them. Yet, if he was being honest, wasn’t completely fair because it was one of his most lucrative mornings, next to their new Special Saturday Brunch menu they’d started a few weeks ago and the growing Online Business Kevin had set-up on Facebook.

Thank God for Kevin and his natural-born computer literacy cause good Lord he knew he wouldn’t have been able to do that. Kevin had only told him last week that he thought they should have a bird peep page or whatever he called it tit? Toot? No, that couldn’t have been it. Whatever.

Dean turned his head towards the clock stationed above the kitchen door. 10:30 am. The lunch rush would start soon, but it was usually lighter traffic than the mornings and only a few people stayed around. It was the wedding order that was his main concern, if he didn’t get started on making the mini-pies he’d never manage. ‘ _I should hire more people.’_

He loved weddings but not wedding season because the orders started coming in fast and heavy during the winter and the events were just starting. Spring had been manageable, but summer was going to be hell. Groaning to himself Dean went towards the back and began rolling out the pastry.

When he’d first received the order request, the bride had instantly become his favourite customer, but he had to go make it more difficult for himself and Kevin by suggesting individual mini-pies with different fillings.

‘ _For Fuck Sake Winchester, the woman had wanted a pie tower, but no you had to be the show off and suggest mini pies on top of that_ ,’ looking at the mound of previously configured and chilled pastry dough Dean rubbed his hand across his face. ‘ _Fuck_.’

From the front of the store Dean heard Kevin welcoming a customer to the shop, “Welcome to _Sweet Surprise_ , how can I help you?”

“Hello. I was wondering if Dean was working today,” Dean heard the familiar deep voice respond.

Castiel.

Dean glanced around the kitchen quickly wondering what he should do. He had skipped their last session because of the increase in business and had all but abandoned the gym when Sammy’s sessions had finished. Castiel had texted him once in a while, but the contact had ended about a week ago when the brunch service had started. He’d simply forgotten to text him back.

“Yeah he’s in the back hold on a sec,” Kevin’s head soon popped around the door, “Hey someone’s here for you.”

“Right,” Dean gulped, “Be right there.”

Kevin squinted at him before retreating back to the front. Dean could hear the young man offering Castiel a drink.

_‘It’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. Sure Cas and I went for coffee after and I was good. They’d had two more sessions afterwards that were good if not slightly uncomfortable. They hadn’t done anything since.’_ Dean frowned down at the counter fidgeting and reorganizing the kitchen by placing the pie-filling bowl on the island counter across from the pastry making station.

_‘Maybe Cas didn’t really want him after that. I mean they didn’t move forward or do anything after. Didn’t push. But also barley touched. Why was he here?’_

He straightened up puffing air through his cheeks, the dusting of flour floating up like a cloud. Dean brushed his hands down his front leaving remnants of flour on his dark green Bakery shirt, the logo stamped on his chest. Dean patted his jeans with nerves ignoring the ever-present white powder. He slid his hands into his back pockets as he turned in a circle before forcing himself out the door.

Dean glanced around the shop, but was unable to see Castiel. ‘ _Did he leave? No, Kevin is fixing him a drink. Where is h-_ ’ Castiel stood up from crouching to look at the bottom rung of baked goods in the display case.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel’s eyes danced as they focused upon Dean.

Dean froze in front of the now closed kitchen door, Castiel wasn’t wearing gym clothe, but average everyday street clothe. Dean felt the beginning of the heated flush fill his cheeks and stroke its way over the tips of his ears. As Dean walked around the counter to stand in front of Castiel he took in the man’s simple black converse, well-worn jeans and a white button up shirt, the top two buttons open. ‘ _Fuck.’_

Castiel danced back and forth on his feet nervously, his hands tucked into his jean’s back pockets, shoulders hunched forward. Dean had never seen him so uncomfortable, so nervous. The man usually oozed confidence at the gym, but here in his bakery, Castiel was unsure. Dean could see one of his hand’s fingers poking through what must be a hole in the pocket, the action causing Dean to relax and take pity on the man.

“Heya Cas, how you doin’ man?” Dean smiled confidently at him.

“I – well- I hadn’t heard from you and I thought maybe you were just busy, but umm,” Castiel bit his bottom lip the action causing Dean to watch as his soft full pink lip was worried between his teeth and then were self-consciously dampened with a flick of his pink tongue.

Dean’s eyes had glazed over watching the man’s lips, forgetting to pay attention to Castiel’s words. Kevin cleared his throat from behind the counter, still occupying himself with the espresso machine. Dean snapped his eyes back to Castiel’s realizing that he had missed something important, “What?”

The man’s blue eyes, previously hesitant with unknown nerves clouded with sadness, “Clearly this was a mistake.”

Dean’s began to panic as the man’s shoulder sagged on his way out the door, _‘What? No! Shit what did I miss? Fucking hell Winchester! Fuckfuckfuck,’_

Dean dashed out the door to the sidewalk looking back and forth quickly before spotting the man walking briskly around the corner, ‘ _Damn his athleticism!’_ Dean kicked up his feet and ran after him coming around the corner and almost slamming directly into Castiel hiding against the wall.

Castiel looked up at him shocked. Dean had noticed how the man had had his head lowered into the palms of his hands, hiding his face in shame before he’d come to a screeching halt, “Dean?”

“Where you goin’ Cas?” Dean huffed.

“Home,” Castiel stood up to his full height placing his pained expression behind a cold mask. Dean had somehow hurt him.

“What? Why? Come back, have a coffee on the house. Hell, I’ll even throw in an entire fucking cake, just come back in man.

“I can’t Dean. I clearly misinterpreted _things_ between us and I’m sorry for pushing. It was unprofessional and I just wanted to check, but clearly I was right cause you didn’t even respond before so I’m sorry Dean. I’ll just be going now,” Castiel rambled before turning briskly around to dash off again.

“Wait!” Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm holding the man in place. Dean scrunched his face in confusion as the late morning sun warmed his skin while Castiel’s back stood ridged before him, closed off and cold.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but all I know is you didn’t push me. Was it unusual? Yeah, there were people right outside the god damn door Cas,” Castiel flinched beneath his hand. “But it kinda, I don’t know, added a bit of a thrill man.”

Dean watched as Castiel turned around slowly to face him, confusion dancing across his beautiful face. God he missed that face.

“I don’t understand Dean. You stopped talking to me,” Castiel frowned still unwilling to look at him.

“The text message? Shit. Look Cas I’m sorry, I got super busy, which I know is a shit excuse, but ask Kev, Jesus, asks my brother and my own mother! I’m terrible at using technology. I almost never check my phone. The only reason we had a semi-continual conversation is cause I was at home when I texted you or you happened to set my phone off when I had it in hand.”

Castiel slowly lifted his head his eyes skirted across Dean’s chest, over his shoulders, his lips and then finally rested upon his eyes. Dean smiled.

“I didn’t push you?” he asked.

“Hell no!” Dean winked at him causing Castiel to blush fiercely. Dean held out his hand and wiggled his fingers, “Come on Cas come back.”

Castiel stared directly into Dean’s eyes intensely making him feel as if the man was checking his soul for any inkling of hesitation or falsehood. Castiel relaxed and allowed a small smile to play across his lips before gently taking Dean’s hand, “Okay.”

Beaming Dean tugged Castiel back to the bakery walking directly into the kitchen, closing the door tightly behind them. Dean walked to the back corner of the kitchen, leaving Cas to stand awkwardly at the entrance. Dean grabbed a small wooden stool from a pile usually used for his Kinder Baking classes he held with the local Elementary school down the street.

Dean gestured to the stool for Cas to sit, “Sorry the stools a bit small, but it’s all I’ve got back here, plus I have to get a move on with this wedding order for the weekend, but umm yeah sit there and we’ll chat, catch up.”

Dean bit his lip, the confidence from the sidewalk now evaporated into the mounting sexual tension filling the room around them. Dean scoffed to himself, _‘If they weren’t careful his desserts were going to develop aphrodisiac qualities. Meh might bring up business.’_

“So Cas what’s new?” Dean only allowed himself to quickly glance over at the man now perched gracefully on the small stool, his arm resting on the counter holding his head up. Dean could feel his eyes burrowing into the side of his face, watching his skittish movement before flowing down his body. He could feel every glance as if the man were running his fingers lightly over his body. Dean inhaled deeply.

“Why did you stop going to _Pearl Gates Gym_?”

“I got busy.”

“Are you still doing your exercises?”

“Some, yeah,” Dean wasn't sure what the man was getting at before he felt the heat of Castiel’s body pressing up behind him.

“I missed you Dean,” Castiel whispered directly into his ear before hesitating for a moment and then placing a light kiss on his neck just below his ear.

Dean gasped as the soft press of the forgotten touch lite his blood reminding him of the last time Cas had pressed himself against him. Images of them locking eyes in their reflection, watching as Dean reached his climax before Cas finished and marked him.

Dean’s breathing stuttered as he gripped the counter, his fingers scraping through previously rolled out dough, “I missed you too Cas.”

He turned around in Castiel’s arms causing the man to wrap them fully around his back and pulling them chest to chest. Dean looked down at his lips before looking back into Cas’ blue eyes. The fire burning hot within the cerulean softened, “This okay Dean?”

“Yeah,” he whispered between them.

“You sure?”

“Just fucking kiss me Cas!”

Castiel crashed their mouths together, the clicking of teeth and bruising of lips causing Dean to shift his body back a little and bring his hands up to cup Cas’ face, easing back, Dean took control of the man’s frantic desire, slowing the fire to a simmer. Dean released his lips leaning away as the man followed him with his eyes still closed.

“Easy Cas, easy,” Dean laughed.

Castiel gasped as Dean leaned his hips forward, brushing his hardening length against Cas’ own. Dean backed up Castiel so that the man bummed into counter behind him. Dean reached down to unbuckle Cas’ jeans, undoing the button and slowly sliding the zipper down, the pressure scrapping over his length.

Cas groaned as his eyes fluttered closed. Dean watched with fascination as he slowly slid his hand down Cas’ white briefs, the simplicity making him smile softly at the man before him. Dean leaned forward and nipped at Cas’ chin, the man’s head lolling backwards as Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel’s cock moving patiently up and then down, being careful to not touch the head.

He lightly kissed down Castiel’s throat nosing the collar of his shirt to mouth at the man’s sinful collar bones, “Tell me Cas,” he moved over to kiss the center of his chest before licking up the other side of Cas’ neck. “Have you ever had sex in a kitchen?”

“No, it’s unsanitary,” Castiel replied before moaning loudly.

Dean chuckled, “Keep it down. But yes you’ve got a point, hence bleach.”

“Why?” Castiel moved his head slowly to catch Dean’s lips pressing forward and licking along his lips causing Dean to open for him. Castiel’s tongue dove forward and ran over Dean’s own tongue dragging the tip over the roof of Dean’s mouth before biting Dean’s lower lip.

Dean shuddered as he lowered his head to hide his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck, composing himself. The kiss had short-circuited his brain, meaning he’d stopped stroking Castiel. He felt the hesitant press of Cas’ hand against his own, willing Dean to resume moving his hand leisurely over Castiel. Dean lifted his head and smirked at Cas before sinking slowly to his knees.

Cas’ eyes widened as he noticed what Dean was planning, “Dean you don’t need to.”

“I know, but I want to,” he removed his hand from Cas’ cock grabbing the edges of the man’s jeans and briefs slowly bringing them down around the man’s ankles. Dean felt a shiver move along his spine and nestling at its base. His stance tightened the denim of his jeans along his now fully hard dick as he stared at the darkened cut cock before him. Dark trimmed hair was nestled at the base being framed by Cas’ thick thighs. Dean glided one hand up Cas’ leg resting it lightly in the man’s inner thigh just shy of touching him. His other hand moved down his own body to unfasten his jeans taking himself in hand and releasing it from its restraint.

Above him Castiel groaned causing Dean to look up at the man noticing him biting his lip, “You’re commando again.”

Dean smirked as he released himself and brought his hands up to hold Cas. He moved his hand up and down Cas’ length watching as a drop of pre-come seeped through the man’s slit. Dean looked up at Cas’ face noting he was biting his lip to contain his noises, his eyes never leaving Dean.

Dean winked at him before leaning forward and flicking his tongue over the head savouring the taste of Cas upon his tongue. Dean opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the head whisking his tongue over the top, around the edge and then pointing his tongue to flick hard back and forth over the slit.

When Dean paired the action with a slight suction he heard a clanging of metal above him causing him to move away. Above him Castiel was panting, as he looked over at the mess he had made bringing his hand up slowly to look at what was on his own hand.

Dean smiled as it registered that in Castiel’s dash to find leverage he’d dunked his hand into the cherry pie filling he’d previously left on the island. The red syrup began to drip over the edge of the counter, splashing at his knees on the floor.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Dean,” Castiel began to panic thinking he’d messed up Dean’s work.

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean reached up for Castiel’s hand and brought it to his lips. He moaned as the bright tang of cherries sparked his tongue before the sweet red syrup wrapped itself around his mouth. Dean dragged his tongue between the man’s fingers before moving it over to Cas’ cock. With heavy lidded eyes Dean directed Cas to wrap his coated hand around himself, dragging the cherry concoction down his shaft.

Dean batted Cas’ sticky hand away as he moved to mouth at Cas’ base, obscenely sucking the cherry pie filling between his lips before lightly dragging his tongue up over Cas’ full length and then fully sinking down as far as he could over him.

Dean held Cas’ hips in place against the counter, feeling Cas’ sticky hand stroking over his cheek feeling himself within Dean’s mouth and sinking his fingers into Dean’s hair as Dean brought his mouth up before sinking down further.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas quietly moaned into the air around them.

Dean felt a small pressure of pre-come drip off his own dick and drop onto the floor, leaving a trail of come folowing it to the ground before snapping with gravity. Dean groaned around Cas’ length enjoying the hard heat against his tongue and savouring the sweet tang of cherry pie filling with the subtle saltiness of Cas’ skin. The vibration caused Castiel to tighten his grip, but the man never forced his head forward and notably kept his hips in check.

Dean moved his hands from Cas’ hips wrapping them around to knead Cas’ ass, spreading them intermittently. He knew from his own experience that the slight tug on Cas’ hole stretching open would be enough of a tease to add to the experience. Dean purposely shied away from running a finger over the man’s rim or even putting a finger within the tight heat of his hole; they’d not talked about how far they were going to go.

Dean felt Castiel move his other hand to cup one of Dean’s pushing him forward, “ _Oh god_ Dean, do it, _fuck_.”

Dean flicked his eyes up to meet Castiel’s before picking up pace along Castiel’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and feeling its head bumping the back of his throat. Dean felt his gag reflex catch forcing him to release Cas from between his lips coughing slightly.

Cas stroked his cheek again, spreading the forgotten cherry substance along his cheek and then his bottom lip, “You okay?”

“Yeah Cas,” Dean grabbed Castiel’s index finger between his lips and began sucking the liquid syrup from the digit. Dean focused on moving the hand Castiel still had cupped along his ass and moved his hand slowly over to his hole.

Dean heard Cas’ breath hitch releasing a slight high pitch, as Dean circled his rim lightly pushing against the muscles with each rotation. When he was sure Cas was relaxed enough he pushed his index finger in to the first knuckle moving in and out slowly. As the man loosened around him Dean sank his finger deeper.

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes closed to the pleasure, “More Dean.”

Leaning forward Dean brought his lips once again to Cas’ cock, wrapping his mouth around him and sinking down. Dean picked up pace crooking his finger within Cas searching for the bundle of nerves that would make this beautiful man see stars.

Dean smirked around Cas when he felt his hips jolt forward, causing him to lean back a little to escape chocking again.

“Mhn De- ah ah Ah- oh god Dean I- ha gonna- AH,” Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes flew open when Dean sucked hard on an upwards stroke flicking his tongue over Cas’ slit and rapidly moving his finger back and forth over Castiel’s prostate. Placing his mouth over Cas’ head he opened his throat and swallowed, come escaping to run down his chin.

Castiel sagged against the counter, in his exhaustion making him release Cas and remove his finger, allowing the man to sink to the floor in front of him. Dean smiled at the sated man before him.

Castiel smirked at him absentmindedly running his cherry hand in his hair. Cas looked down at Dean noticing that he was still hard making him move forward, “Let me.”

Before he could reject the man wrapped his long fingers around him and began to pump rapidly. Dean leaned forward touching his forehead to Cas’, “Ah Cas, _fuck_.”

“Sorry you weren’t able to,” Cas swallowed, still catching his own breath.

“Tis okay- Ah _yes_ , fuck, faster,” Dean moaned.

Cas got on his knees and released him, “Turn around.”

Dean turned on his knees as Cas lightly pushed him down on to all fours pulling his pants down and placing himself behind Dean. Confused Dean looked over his shoulder, “What are yo- _OH FUCK_.”

Dean felt the swipe of Castiel’s tongue along his rim, causing him to bow his head forward. He felt his hole flutter at the attention as Castiel shifted behind him, one palm resting against his ass holding him in place. Before he could begin to turn his head Dean felt the presence of a cold-slicked finger rub around his rim pushing slightly at his hole.

_‘What the hell is that? I swear I didn’t leave any lube,’_ Dean wondered as he groaned when Cas finally pushed in against the ring of muscles.

The slow pressure and swirl of Cas’ finger eased him as he relaxed into his hand. Before Cas could press his whole finger forward he removed it and placed his hand upon his other cheek spreading him wide.

Dean could feel the passing of cool air upon his wet hole, it fluttering as he felt Castiel’s eyes upon him. “Cas,” he groaned.

Then he felt it. The slick glide of Castiel’s tongue along his crack and down to his premium; skipping his hole along the way, “Mmmnnn, Cas _please_.”

“You’re right Dean you do make a mean Cherry Pie,” Cas brought his mouth around Dean’s hole and began to suck, flicking his tongue around his rim and spearing the tip of his tongue in the centre. Castiel flicked his hole before lifting slightly to spread him further causing Dean to move his knees further apart. He gasped as Castiel’s tongue spread him wider and speared him. He moaned as he felt his arms give way and his torso reset against the concrete floor. He was going to be feeling it later, but fuck if he didn’t care.

Dean heard Castiel slurp as he flattened his tongue once again against his hole before moving his sticky finger back to finger him open, his tongue joining it, “Oh god Cas, aah yes, _yes_.”

Dean felt his rim being spread further as Castiel moved his other hand over so he could place a finger at the other side. Castiel moved each index finger in and out at opposing times causing Dean’s vision to become unfocused before him. At no point did he not feel the building of pressure from within.

“AH CASTIEL,” Dean yelled as Cas placed his tongue back within his hole spreading it wider. Cas rotated his fingers around his hole as his wiggled in him searching for his prostate.

Dean reached underneath himself grabbing his leaking cock within his grasp and began to pump hard, flicking his wrist whenever he felt Cas’ tongue hit the edge of his prostate. Dean pushed back trying to get Cas’ tongue deeper making the man grunt behind him as he shifted to add a finger long enough to reach his prostate, “More Cas, _oh fuck yes_.”

Castiel flicked the edge of his prostate with his tongue as his finger began to milk him. Castiel reached around Dean and batted his hand away to take hold of his cock. Dean lost himself to the pleasure building. He felt like his lungs were constricting to full capacity, his panting and groaning filling his ears along with the distant slurping and vibrating moans falling from Castiel.

Then out of nowhere Dean felt his world skyrocket, “ _AH_!” the catch of air allowing the final syllable to bounce off the walls around him. His vision went from techno-colour to a blurred o white before he felt himself fall forward, his eyes closed.

Dean distantly felt Castiel catch him around the waist so he didn’t sink into the puddle of come below him, lifting him back up to rest against his chest. Dean’s head lulled against Cas’ shoulder as he allowed the man to move him so they were resting against the island counter on the floor. Catching his breath Dean whispered, “Well fuck Cas.”

Castiel laughed causing Dean to jostle from the movement. Dean smiled to himself, his eyes still closed as he moved his hand to wrap around Castiel’s brining them to rest around his soft middle.

He felt the light brush of Cas’ lips upon his neck, nothing sexual, just comfort. Dean tightened his hands around Cas’ causing him to tighten his grip and nuzzle against Dean’s neck. Dean moaned in appreciation and opened his eyes slowly. He turned his head to the side noticing thick red cherry pie filling pooling around the floor. He followed the mess up the side of the counter and noticed the tipped over bowl its entire content of cherry pie filling had been dumped out.

“Hey Cas,” Dean continued to stare at the mess, while Cas softly kissed his shoulder and neck.

“Hmn?”

“Do you think maybe next time we could use lube?” Dean turned to face Castiel, humour dancing in his eyes as he watched the man blush behind him laughing as he buried his face behind Dean in embarrassment. Dean nudged him, “What?”

“You have cherry filling all over your face and hair,” Cas reached up to touch his hair before remembering that his own hand was the culprit.

“Oh just my face and hair? I’m pretty sure my ass cheeks are stuck together,” he smiled.

“Doubtful,” he deadpanned before smiling and moving forward to peek Dean on the mouth. Dean smiled into the kiss as he twisted to run his own hand through Cas’ hair, moving Castiel’s dirty hands over his stomach and hip, smearing more cherry over his skin.

Dean moved back and hopped up before leaning down to pull up his pants. He looked up at the clock noticing that time should have the bakery filled with noise, but only silence met his ears. Frowning he left Castiel to get dressed and peeked his head around the closed door. The bakery was empty and the lights were off, from his vantage point he noticed the closed sign displayed in the window.

“Huh,” he wandered out to the counter and noticed a sticky note stuck to the cash register.

**_Closed Early for – REASONS. You’re on cleaning duty! See you Tomorrow. ~Kevin._ **

“Oh fuck,” Dean slapped his forehead hiding his face in his hands. He felt Cas slide his hands along his hips and wrap his arms around him to rest now clean hands against his bare stomach. Castiel rubbed his thumbs back and forth in comfort along his skin, still causing Dean to tense a little at the attention drawn to his mid-section.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked him.

“Kevin.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he- we apparently weren’t that quiet,” he lifted the note for Cas to see behind his shoulder.

“I see,” Castiel snickered behind him, “So I guess you’re free for dinner then?”

Dean looked over his shoulder at the glee dancing across Cas’ face, “Yeah Cas I’m free for dinner.” He removed himself from Cas’ embrace and reached for his hand to lead him to the back, “Come on Cas let’s get cleaned up then we’ll grab some food.”

Castiel beamed at him as he followed him once again the look warming Dean and causing him to turn his own head away blushing. Dean smiled to himself as he realized Cas might just the person he’d been waiting for to drag him out of work and back to the real world, _‘Like hell I’m ever letting him go again.’_


End file.
